


Scent of rain

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series, UST, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 10:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11273982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: Bedelia and Hannibal attend a social function and are caught in the rain.





	Scent of rain

It’s an unexciting event. A middle of a hot summer is hardly an appropriate time to host a gala, even one in a garden setting. Hannibal takes a glass from a passing tray and samples the wine, sadly an unremarkable vintage. It makes him somehow glad that the evening might come to a premature end as he glances at the dark clouds gathering above his head. No other guests seem to have noticed it. Apart from one woman, the reason he decided to accept the invitation.

Bedelia Du Maurier seldom engages in social events and it’s a rarity to see her outside her office hours. She is wearing a purple dress with a low neckline, gently flowing down her petite figure. A pair of stud earrings adorns her ears, her golden curls pinned up to one side. Her attire is simple in comparison to the weightily jewelled, and ostentatious, ensembles of other women, yet she shines among the crowd like the brightest diamond. Her gaze follows the dark sky, she appears unconcerned.

Hannibal wastes no time and makes his way in her direction, before one the dull professors in attendance imposes his presence on her.

“Good evening Dr Du Maurier, what a pleasure to see you in attendance,” he stands next to her, offering a well-mannered nod.

“Good evening Hannibal, this is more of your forte as I hear,” she watches him attentively, “such events are exhausting to me, but the hostess was very persistent. One can only refuse an invitation so many times.”

“I hope it was worth it. Do you enjoy the evening so far?”

“Not particularly,” she replies without hesitation.

Hannibal smiles, enamoured by her unapologetic sincerity. He is about to relieve her of the mediocre wine and propose finding a more acceptable refreshment when a voice calls his name. Fingers cluttered with rings clasp Hannibal’s forearm.

“Dr Lecter,” a plump woman with a grey bob and red lips exclaims, still squeezing his arm,” the new members of the hospital board have been dying to meet you.” And before he gets a chance to reply, she pulls him away. How _rude._

Hannibal turns his head back to offer Dr Du Maurier an apology, but she is already gone.

They approach a group of men and Hannibal politely engages in introductions, but the topic of the discussion is of no interest to him. His eyes travel through the crowd searching for his psychiatrist. He sees her at last; one of the young residents is offering her a confident smile and a drink. It pleases Hannibal to see Bedelia rejecting him with nothing more than a stern gaze.

A cold raindrop falls on his cheek and disturbs his concentration. Another one follows and a few moments later a heavy curtain of rain enfolds the garden. A shriek of surprise passes through the patrons and everyone rushes to return inside the house.

Hannibal watches the panic with amusement, but then his gaze returns to Bedelia. He crosses the lawn in three long strides, his arm wraps protectively around her waist and he leads her to shelter of a small gazebo at the end of the garden.

“Hannibal, what are you doing?” Bedelia asks, freeing herself from his embrace.

“I was worried you might get pushed and slip due the unnecessary panic that ensued. I apologise if I caused you discomfort.”

“I am fine. Thank you,” Bedelia is still unnerved by the occurrence. Her hands go to her temples to smooth her hair, but soon abandon the attempt. She sighs in annoyance at the ruined coiffure.

“You remain impeccable, Doctor,” Hannibal reassures her, with sincerity. She has never looked more beautiful than now. There is a tingle in his fingers, aching to reach and brush the wet lock off her face. A droplet moves slowly down her cheek and he can almost feel the softness of her dewy skin on his fingertips. He watches mesmerised as another drop rolls on the hollow of her throat, down her chest and disappears between her breasts. Hannibal swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. He averts his eyes, hoping she did not notice his stare.

He looks up and meets her gas flame eyes, holding his gaze steadily. Hannibal adores her eyes on him; no one else has ever looked at him that way, not merely looking, but _seeing_. He hopes one day she’ll see all of him.

A slight shiver in her shoulders alarms Hannibal; he removes his jacket.

“The jacket is dry on the inside,” he offers her the cover.

“There is no need.”

“Please,” his voice gentle, “I would not want you to catch a cold.”

“Are you worried about your next appointment being cancelled?” she retorts, but allows him to place the jacket over her back. His hands linger on her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she interrupts the moment and he moves his hands away.

Lightning illuminates the sky and they turn to watch as the downpour continues. Minutes pass in silence.

“The rain is not stopping. I believe we should try to get back inside,” Hannibal admits with reluctance.

“Yes, we should,” she pulls the jacket more firmly around herself. It envelops her completely and Hannibal smiles at the sight. He puts his arms around her waist once more and she says nothing. They leave the dry harbour of the gazebo and cross the garden as fast as they can.

“Thank you,” she returns his jacket once they are safe inside the house. The guests appear to have scattered between various rooms and the party resumes.

“I think it’s time to call it a night. I do not wish to linger here in wet clothes. Until our next session,” she bids him goodbye and leaves to retrieve her car.

Hannibal’s eyes follow her departure while he still holds his jacket. The scent of her perfume lingers on the fabric, blending with his own cologne. He inhales deeply, distinguishing the various notes of the fragrance, and marvelling at the intoxicating fusion they create together.

**Author's Note:**

> For a tumblr prompt. Thank you for reading! Feedback is love ♥  
> As always you can find me on tumblr for your daily bedannibal fangirling.


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